


Holy Water

by N0nb1narydemon



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Holy Water, Other, Prayer, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 17:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19468345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N0nb1narydemon/pseuds/N0nb1narydemon
Summary: To make holy water, you just need a believer to pray over it. To make "the holiest" you'd probably need an angel. This is what he prayed...(Thanks to Corellon for the description <3)





	Holy Water

**Author's Note:**

> To make holy water, you just need a believer to pray over it. To make "the holiest" you'd probably need an angel. This is what he prayed...

Morning crested over Soho, the city cloaked in the anxious quiet that followed every air raid. But in an antique corner bookshop, the sole resident was anything but still.  
Aziraphale paced through the shop, fretting over imperfectly aligned books, dusting shelves that were perfectly clean, and moving things around that generally made no difference in one spot or another. The Angel's mind was awash in confusion, doubt, and uncertainty, all wrapped up in a big box of anxiety.  
How had it come to this? Was this even possible? Was this a test from God herself, and if so was he passing or failing by feeling these feelings that were all... feelingy.  
For the third time this hour, Aziraphale walked past the table where an unassuming tartan thermos stood, containing as of yet perfectly ordinary water.  
No, no, this simply couldn't be right. Crowley was a demon! There was simply no way it could be an almighty-approved action to give him holy water, and that's... carefully skirting around the thing Aziraphale is still quite sure he wants it for. He poured out the thermos, dried it, and placed it in the cupboard.  
.  
.  
.  
Aziraphale heard things. He heard people chatter in the bookshop on rare occasions they managed to get in, he heard them whisper on street corners, he heard them talk about a dark dressed man who wore sunglasses at the most impractical of times and arranged capers to steal something from the local catholic church. Aziraphale didn't need to hear more.  
That damn... demon was bound and determined to get sole hopy water and dammit he was going to get killed in the process mucking around like this! What if one of his agents was careless? It wasn't like your average human had to worry about the repercussions of spilling a bit of holy water on their employer, but just such a 'minor' slip up was all it would take to remove Crowley from Aziraphale's... from the world altogether. It wouldn't do. 

At least if Crowley was handed a properly sealed container by someone who... who cared, at least it wouldn't be carelessness that destroyed him. And maybe the demon was telling the truth? Maybe he didn't intend to kill himself. Aziraphale could only pray... so praying is what he did. 

The tartan thermos sat, once again, on a desk in the bookshop, appearing innocent for all the power of destruction it was about to contain. Aziraphale sat, hands folded over the open top of the thermos, and bowed his head to bless and purify the water with the sincere prayer of a believer. 

"Oh Lord, I pray unto you for a blessing. I ask that you would purify this water that it may protect your children and..." he swallowed thickly, knowing he had to do this right, "banish evil from whence it touches. May every molecule be as your will, carrying your awesome power with it."  
That was the easy part, Aziraphale surmised. Next, he needed to give something personal, that the almighty would know the heart of the believer who prayed. The angel took a deep, steadying breath and forged on.  
"God, I... I know this is quite a strange one. Not every day you get an angel praying up a spot of holy water for a demon, I'd wager!" he forced a weak laugh. "But I would hope... I would hope that you would see into my heart, and his, and maybe... maybe you will understand, oh Lord, that this situation is- it's different. I don't know how to explain it, but somehow in the millennia since we have both been stationed here on your creation, I have come to... well, to love him."  
Aziraphale paused, half expecting to be struck down at the utterance, but nothing happened. No bolt of divine lightning, no sudden plummet through time and space indicating a fall.  
"It's just that... I don't know exactly what he wants this for, God, but I need you... I beg you to believe me when I tell you I know it can't be for evil. He is good, oh God, even if my saying so would infuriate him. Lord, please just... watch over him, as much as you will a creature of his ilk, because I... God, I simply cannot fathom a world without him. If... if nothing else,"  
He paused to chase the tremble from his voice and wipe a bit of dampness from his cheek.  
"If nothing else God, I ask that if he makes to use this on himself, to destroy his own existence, please... please stay his hand. Please protect him from the far greater evils of the opposition."  
Aziraphale took one last, deep breath; wracking his mind for anything else to say, but concluded that he would only repeat himself, and already he was having trouble keeping his face dry.  
"Amen," he concluded, and instantly felt the divine power of the holy water through the open top. One more shuddering breath. The prayed had worked. He... had no idea what to make of that, but there it was, the holiest of holy water, bound in tartan and looking like a pipe bomb.  
Aziraphale took several moments to just breathe, steadying himself before he set to work making himself presentable. Half an hour later, he strode forth from the bookshop, thermos in hand, towards the club he knew he would find a familiar Bentley illegally parked out front.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Stay His Hand](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19726762) by [SeedsOfWinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeedsOfWinter/pseuds/SeedsOfWinter)




End file.
